All That We Are
by amockorange
Summary: Set during the scene in Needy's bedroom. Jennifer wants to tell Needy the truth and Needy has a feeling that something isn't quite right with her best friend. An internal look through the minds of the characters.


I'd just told her that I wasn't going to bite her. If only she knew how close I was to doing just that. Needy was standing by her bed, right in front of me and looking pretty fucking freaked out. For all she knew, I was just saying that so she wouldn't be scared of coming closer to me. Not that she should have any reason to be scared of course, we're biffs, I'd never intentionally hurt her.

'Is that my Evil Dead t-shirt?' Needy forced out. Well I know the evil part is bang on target, but I'm not so sure about the dead part. I mean, I'm obviously not _dead _dead, how could someone so scrumptious possibly be? But I don't really think I'm all that _alive_ either. I was the shit _before_, but now I'm like, at a whole freaking new level. I couldn't let Needy know that of course, she'd go totally sped if she found out I was a man-eating freak of nature. Literally.

So I did the next best thing. I shuffled along the bed and got even closer to her than I had been before. I moved the glasses from the bridge of her nose and gently brushed her soft hair over her shoulder. If Needy looked freaked out before, she was down right petrified now. I felt bad for doing this to her, making her so uncomfortable and all, but she needed to know that I'd sworn to myself that I wouldn't end up leaving her looking like she'd been dragged the wrong way through tractor blades, or whatever. I brushed my fingers across her cheek and I felt her tense up at my touch. She'd probably noticed that I'm running pretty hot. I see it as an advantage; with my current extra-curricular activities, it sure helps to be able to swim butt-naked in the lake without having to worry about my ass freezing over. With any luck, Needy'll just think I've got a fever; it's still too soon to tell her otherwise.

As I moved my face slowly closer to hers, I saw confusion in Needy's eyes. Sure, we've flirted with each other before, and we always share the same bed at slumber parties, but what biffs don't? We've done all that, but we've never done what we were just about to do. I don't deal well with emotions and all the shit that goes with them; I'm more of an 'actions speak louder than words' person. I don't exactly have the rep to back that up, but I knew that right now, I couldn't let my mouth ruin the moment. I also knew that what we were just inches away from doing was the best way to let Needy know how I feel about her and about us. So I kissed her, and when I did, I felt the thing inside of my body gnawing at me to be let out, but I sure as hell wasn't going to bite my best friend's face off, so as much as I didn't want to, I broke the kiss, and laid back on Needy's bed. When I looked up at her with that hesitant look on her face, part of me wanted her to continue what I'd just started and the other half just wanted to scream at her to get the fuck out if she knew what was good for her.

A flash of something like determination mixed with lust crossed through Needy's eyes and before I knew it, I felt the warm weight her body above me and her soft lips pressed and moving against mine. It was at that moment that I promised myself that I would never, ever cross Needy out. It was also time that I decided to fill her in on what happened to me the night Melody Lane burned down. I owed it to her after being such a bitch of a friend back there. I should've listened to her, but all I could think about was getting close to that salty lead singer. All too soon, I felt Needy pull away from me, and for a second I was hurt, but I couldn't drop character now and let her see that, so I did what I do best and sucked that shit up. It was time to tell my little story.

Jennifer was kissing me and for a moment I was like a stunned mullet, minus the blubbering I suppose. Sure, Jennifer was beyond attractive and I loved the fact that despite our differences, we still managed to be biffs, but I'd never felt to urge to actually put my lips on hers and do the tongue tango. I'd be telling whoppers if I said I wasn't enjoying it now though, and judging from the movements and sounds coming from underneath me, I was pretty sure she was too.

Suddenly, whatever part of my brain there was that wasn't currently under the influence of teenage hormones decided that what was happening was a little bit weird, and I found myself pulling away from Jennifer's body, as much as I really didn't want to. I had to admit though, something did seem a little off, like she was too warm or something. When I thought about it, the whole night seemed a little strange really. I mean, a couple of hours ago, I could've sworn I almost ran over Jennifer, who looked like she had a major leakage issue, and now here she was, warm and completely bloodless in my bed. As to how she actually got in to the house and up to my bed, I guess she must've crept in while I was passed out on the lounge. I'm a heavy sleeper.

After I pulled back from Jennifer, I sprouted some shit about calling the police. Yeah, like the cops are going to care that my best friend broke in to my house. Why do I even care that she did? This is practically her place too; she's here often enough. After I calmed down from my little sped attack, Jennifer said that she had some things to explain to me, and all I could think was 'God, I just lesbigayed it up with Jennifer Check, A-grade cheer-bitch and my biff'. She started to tell me about the night Melody Lane burned down, like I really wanted to think about it all over again, and about what happened after, with Low Shoulder; or as she called them, 'agents of Satan, with really awesome haircuts'. As much as I didn't want to believe what she was telling me, something inside of me knew that this was the horrible truth. My best friend had been murdered by a wannabe-hipster indie band, who used way too much eyeliner and sang songs with really sappy lyrics, and yet here she was right in front of me, glowing and breathing and _alive_. I think.

I felt terrible for what Jennifer had been through, but I couldn't help thinking that she really shouldn't be here. I mean, who survives being carved up with a Bowie knife? Still, on the inside I was semi-happy that she was in the land of the living, which meant that we could continue our small town lives just like we had before hell literally arrived in Devil's Kettle. That happy feeling didn't last long though; in fact it ended as soon as Jennifer practically told me that she'd gorged herself on Ahmet from India for dinner, the poor guy. When she picked up my cuticle stick and stabbed her arm with it; that sealed the deal for me, something definitely was not right. Jennifer may have been sitting right in front of me, but it wasn't the Jennifer I grew up with, it was just her body, with something evil living inside of it.

The thing was, she didn't seem to care. I know you've got to do what you've got to do to survive, but eating people? That's one step too far in my book and apart from Ahmet; I was now pretty sure she was the one who disemboweled Jonas in the forest by the school. Jennifer knew I was on to her too, why else would she tell me I was the one who needed professional help? This is the kind of cracked up stuff doctors love, a supposedly deluded nutcase who believes their best friend is a real life man-eater. I'm sure I saw it on Jerry Springer once. Her casual attitude towards the whole thing was really starting to rub me the wrong way, and besides, I needed to process what I'd just heard, so I told her to leave. Maybe I was being a bit harsh, but I figured that if she could survive being shredded, she could handle me being a jerk this one time.

The bitch. I'd just opened up my heart and soul to her, or what was left of it anyway, and she totally brushed me off, and as much as I hate to admit it, it hurt, even more than when she broke our kiss. Even telling her that we could play our old boyfriend-girlfriend game didn't work on her. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was being serious when she told me to leave; there was no hint of anything but anger in them. I knew that I wasn't going to get through to Needy when she was being like this, so I sighed, got off her bed, pulled on my sweats and walked to her window. Just as I was climbing out, I heard her ask what I was doing, so I put on my best 'what the fuck does it look like I'm doing?' voice and replied that I was leaving, just like she'd told me to.

As soon as I was far enough away from Needy's house, I stopped. I was full from my little dinner date with Colin Gray, but the whole episode with Needy had left me feeling really empty inside. It was even worse than that time in eighth grade when I was stood up at the movies by some little freaktard whose name I can't even remember now. I really thought Needy would accept the new me; I mean, apart from being more bangin' than ever, I'm practically un-killable and who wouldn't want someone like that around? Deep down, I knew that wouldn't cut it with her though, she just cares too much. I also knew that I was just being jealous, after all I'd just told my best friend about the single worst thing that had happened to me, and all she seemed to notice was the fact that I killed a couple of guys. Even though I was pretty sure that deep down she'd be upset about what happened to me, I could feel that Needy was disgusted with me and what I'd done and I hated myself for it. None of the creepy cool stuff that I could do now mattered to me anymore, only she did. I couldn't stay angry at her, she was just being herself, and I needed to show her that I was still me.

Knowing that your best friend is turning against you is the worst feeling in the world, and I _need _Needy in mine, more than she knows. I don't show it as much as I should, but Needy really does mean everything to me. She's the only one in this shithole of a town that ever sees the real me, and puts up with the me that everyone else sees. Sure, I'm still bitchy in private, but not like I am in school, and definitely not like the Jennifer on steroids that I am now and Needy balances out that little trait of mine with ones of her own. She puts up with my retarded moods and almost always makes sure I come first, as much as she may not want to. She's always there for me, like I'm not always there for her. I know there's been plenty of times when I've let her down, made her feel less than special, and following that lame ass band was one of them. What we have isn't perfect, but it works. She is the apple to my orange, the mac to my cheese, we're opposites and we attract. We're Jennifer Check and Needy Lesnicki. We're best friends and in a totally barf worthy way, we complete each other.


End file.
